


Turning Green

by creoartem



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, DreamSMP
Genre: 2020 L'Manberg Election on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Backstory, Big Brother Schlatt, Brothers, Co-Parenting, Dad Schlatt, Dream Smp, Evil Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt No Comfort, Jschlatt Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt and Connor are brothers, Jschlatt backstory, King Jschlatt, King Schlatt, L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Mental Disintegration, Not Canon Compliant, Not Shippy, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Other, Schlatt and Tubbo are like brothers, Schlatt and Wilbur are trying their best, Soldier Jschlatt, Soldier Schlatt, Torture, but for fundy not tubbo, reverse character development
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creoartem/pseuds/creoartem
Summary: Sinners don’t get to see heaven, but no one ever asks the sinner what the faces of the demons who coaxed him to sin look like, or how they haunt his dreams. Those in power become corrupted and hungry for more, but no one ever stops to ask why man craves power like it’s a drug he can’t get his hands off of no matter how hard he tries.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Connoreatspants, Jschlatt & Fundy, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Kudos: 19





	Turning Green

**Author's Note:**

> A:N  
> Just a forewarning, this isn’t a ship fic. There’s some flirty/playful banter between Wilbur and Schlatt, but that’s just me expressing the actual chemistry they have as a duo in the streams. I’m using the way they’ve interacted to help me write this, with character changes over time. You can choose to interpret their friendship however way you want, as this is specifically about their characters on the dreamsmp, it’s a Dreamsmp au, it’s fictional, and should be taken as such! It doesn’t go beyond flirting and co-parenting. Same for any hinted relationships in this story, it’s all up to interpretation and I respect Wilbur & Schlatt’s wishes not to be shipped. Schlatt might not seem ‘in character’ at first, but that’s because in the beginning, I’m writing a different Schlatt than the one we came to know on the Dreamsmp. He’s a lot more ‘unexposed’ than he will grow to be, so don’t let young!schlatt turn you off :) That’s all, enjoy!

Chapter One

Unexposed (Part 1)

The gentle summer breeze felt like how heaven's gates must feel to a sinner who wasn’t expecting to see them after they shut their eyes for a final time. Schlatt’s fingers, which were gently plucking away at the copper strings on Wilbur’s guitar, paused. He sighed and gently let the cool air enter his lungs. The wide expanse of yellow fields reached out in front of him, rolling until they were caressed by the distant wilderness of the dark oak forest. It was nice to be away from the disdainful city that fell directly under Dream’s shadow, reaching out past the river and stopping at the caravan. He was grateful to have these moments of calm, escaping the loud silence of the people under Dream’s rule who spent their days suffering and withering away from disease and poverty.

“You practicing?” Schlatt recognized the voice behind him instantly, low, amused, and so very... British.

“Yeah, what about it?” Schlatt grinned, sticking his tongue to poke at one of his fangs- a habit his mother always told him would leave him with a scarred up tongue. What did she know though- it wasn’t like _she_ had his teeth. Those came from his father- who he never did get the chance to meet. A Forest spirit- came as quickly as he left, but his mother never stopped talking about how much Schlatt looked like him, with his copper colored horns that snaked under his ears, and his fluffy curls.

“Nothing, Nothing,” Wilbur let out a breathy laugh, and Schlatt turned his head to see Wilbur’s lanky figure come into view and take a seat in the green grass next to him, looking out to the bright blue sky above them, “You’re getting pretty good at that.”

“Pff. I know. Not as good as you though,” Schlatt strummed. Wilbur was taller than him, even while they sat like this, Schlatt found himself staring up at him. _He makes up for it in being so damn skinny_ , Schlatt thought.

“You’ll get there,” Wilbur squinted as the sun hit his eyes, displays of gold and yellow working their way onto his face. Schlatt’s heart twanged for a second, and he swallowed back the feeling, the one that made his cheeks feel warmer than they already did in the sunlight, and his lungs seem like they were clouded up with puffs of fog and flowers.

“What were you playing?” Wilbur asked, taking tufts of grass in his hands and tugging at them.

“Oh- Uh, Down in the valley. That one you’ve been teaching me,” Schlatt looked away.

“Oh! Play it for me, then?” Wilbur said, resting his elbow on his leg, his cheek held up by his reddened knuckles. Schlatt gulped, taken by surprise. _Play it for me._ Something about the way Wilbur worded it just felt… different. _For me._ He stuttered.

“Uh- Alright yeah you want me to st-”

“Are you blushing?” Wilbur interrupted him. Schlatt’s mouth dropped at the accusation, which was entirely true.

“What? No, shut up. It’s just hot, Wilbur,” He said defensively.

“Alright, Alright!” Wilbur put his hands up, “Although, it really did look like you were getting a little pink there, Schlatt,”

Wilbur grinned stupidly. Schlatt took this chance and rammed his friend in the shoulder with his horns, causing a pained _ah_ to come from Wilbur’s mouth.

“Ow- Right, I was asking for that one,” Wilbur grabbed his shoulder and rubbed it. Schlatt laughed.

“Why is it so funny to you when I’m in _Pain,_ ” Wilbur said with fake exasperation.

“Cause it is.”

“Just play the fucking song, Schlatt,” Wilbur’s voice was laced with the comforting nostalgia you get when you’re talking to your close childhood friend, the care, the love that has lasted through however many years of problems you face. Schlatt started playing, his fingers hesitant now that he had an audience. Wilbur however, couldn’t care less. He closed his eyes, and let the words flow gently through his mouth.

“Down in the valley, valley so low,” Wilbur sang, his voice was smooth and free like the river that flowed only feet away from them, “Hang your head over, hear the wind blow,”

“Hear the wind blow, love,” Schlatt started, but he had this feeling something was wrong. He paused playing, trying to figure out what he messed up with the music.

“That was spose’ to be the B Flat Major Schlatt, you played the F again,'' He let a handful of soft green blades of grass he’d been picking at fall to the ground, and he scooted over, his soft hands taking Schlatt’s fingers and adjusting them to the right place. Schlatt’s face heated up and his heart started pounding. He imagined his chest felt like how a tree must feel when a woodpecker has decided to make it his home. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ he thought, swallowing away the feeling he got around his friend once again. “Now try,”

“Hear the wind blow love, Hear the wind blo-ow,” Schlatt looked over towards Wilbur, who gave a nod, “Hang your head o-ver, hear the wind blow..”

_Roses love sunshine_

_Violets love dew_

_Angels in heaven_

_Know I love you.._

They sang together, Schlatt listening closely to Wilbur’s voice trying to match his pitch, his cracky voice relying on Wilbur’s gentle one for support. The sunshine made the strands in Wilbur’s hair and the caramel specks in his eyes look as golden as the sweater that was wrapped around his body. He glanced over at Schlatt for just a second, and Schlatt allowed himself to drown in the pools of copper staring back at him. He forgot what he was doing.

“What? Why’d you stop?” Wilbur asked, a goofy smile playing across his features, “You’re acting so weird today, almost woulda thought you were in love with me or something~”

“What? That’s pretty gay of you to say Wilbur, you sure you’re not projecting?” Schlatt turned the conversation around on his friend, ignoring the shock of chills that ran down his chest and back, cold and jarring, even in the July heat. Wilbur rolled his eyes, flipping his curls out of his face and sitting back.

“How’s your mum doing?” Wilbur asked, looking out past the fields.

“Alright, thanks to you,” Schlatt said gratefully, “If you weren’t selling those potions, she’d be doing a lot worse, I really can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing, Wil. So many people have access to medicine now.”

“Pff- don’t get all sappy on me, big guy.” Wilbur gave Schlatt a look, and he let out a shaky breath,“Dream says it’s drugs, which.... He isn’t wrong. But there’s also medicine, important medicine, you know that more than anyone.”

“Dream found out?” Schlatt felt his stomach drop like an anchor holding a ship down.

“Yeah… He’s given me and Tommy a few warnings already. Mainly communicated through that fuckin’ Pig,”

“Sapnap? Ugh. I hate that fucking guy,” Schlatt grimaced, “What does ‘a few warnings’ mean, is he trying to take the business?”

The thought that the caravan business would be gone stuck freezing cold metal directly onto Schlatt’s heart and let it stick there. Wilbur and Tommy’s potion business was the only thing keeping Schlatt and Connor’s mother alive. Many other sick citizens of Dream SMP were also entirely reliant on the potions and drugs Wilbur sold- in fact, there were only a few that were even recreational, the majority that Wilbur made and sold were all medical.

“He can’t let us have this one thing? You’re doing what he refuses to do, taking care of the people,”

“It’s selling and consuming of illegal substances, Schlatt, of course he won’t let us have this. He doesn’t want the public to have access to potions like this, especially not at low prices or for free. He wants that power.”

“Of course he does.” Schlatt set the guitar down next to him and pulled his knees up, resting his head on his arms. Dream’s long spidery fingers were wrapped around the throat of his country, and they were all choking on lack of freedom.

“Dream and his little minions don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves. Sapnap is the worst of the lot, I’d say. He tried manipulating Fundy the other day when he was playing by the stream.”

“He what?” Schlatt growled. Fundy was practically his son as well as Wilbur’s. He felt a wave of protectiveness wash over his body, “Fundy can barely talk! If I were there I would’a taken his dumb little bandana and used it to fling his ass across the river,”

“I was going to, but I didn’t want to stoop to that level. I worked it out with them through words, which their lot is obviously incapable of using. They prefer brute violence. After Sapnap aimed his weapon at Tommy though... I’m not sure what response to give. I know they’re still watching us.”

“He aimed his weapon at Tommy? He’s just a fucking kid,”

“I know, Schlatt. As I said, they don’t care about anyone but themselves. It has a chance of ruining their money and their reputation. They want the people to feel reliant on them.”

“Someone oughta put ‘im in his place, I say,” Tommy’s voice came from behind them, and Schlatt turned his head back to look at the lanky blonde boy, who was leaning against the caravan and swirling the water around in his glass bottle as if it were a fine wine.

“Have you been eavesdropping?” Wilbur grumbled at the younger one, who grinned cheekily in response.

“Why would I ever do that.” Tommy replied, glaring in the way that only annoying little brothers can glare. Wilbur stared back, and gave him a playful lunge. Tommy growled and barked in response. The interaction might have looked a little weird or aggressive to anyone else, but Schlatt knew Tommy and Wilbur better than most, save for maybe Tubbo. Even if neither of them would admit it, they were brothers, biologically related or not.

“Shush Tommy, you’ll wake Fundy,” Wilbur whispered, breaking a smile. Wilbur’s fatherly instincts were right, as out came a tinsy Fundy, peeking his head out the door of the Caravan and rubbing his eyes.

“To’m?” He chittered, weaving his way between Tommy’s legs.

“Hey little fella, did you have a good nap?” Tommy crouched down, scritching between Fundy’s ears. The little fox chirped, crawling up onto Tommy’s shoulder and nuzzling the side of his head.

“You sure did sleep awhile,” Wilbur sat up from the grass, walking over to Tommy and letting Fundy hop into his arms. The little fox snuggled into his father’s sweater, soaking in the heat that it had collected from the sunshine.

Fundy’s existence was one that baffled the majority of people who knew Wilbur. The story never quite added up, and no one was sure if they should take his word for it, or blame the mysterious circumstances on drugs and sleep deprivation, two things which Wilbur had a habit of getting a little carried away with. Schlatt still remembered the night Wilbur came to his door, merely 7 months previously.

The fire was crackling like the snapping of twigs in a silent forest, burning bright and big like the moon that hung high in the sky. Schlatt pushed his head back against the warm armchair, putting his palms up to his eyes and rubbing. It was too late, he usually never stayed up that late, but he had this habit of needing to finish any project he had started, or else he’d forget about it. Schlatt had been sitting there whittling this little wooden bearded dragon. He’d been spacing out on making the little scales perfect for about half an hour, and his hands were sore and splintered, little cuts and nicks on his palms and fingers. He looked over at the little figurine, which he’d placed on the table next to the chair. Schlatt’s mother and Connor had been asleep for hours at that point, leaving him alone in the small, warm living room on a winter night. Alone, that was, until a hasty, hollow, knock banged against the wooden door only feet away from where Schlatt sat.

Who the hell would be visiting him at this time of night was beyond him, but Schlatt stood, his legs tired and back cracking. He walked to the door, stretching his arms out as he did so, and grabbed the cool metal doorknob. Cold air rushed into the warm house, leaving goosebumps on Schlatt’s skin.

“Schlatt,” Wilbur’s voice echoed in the cold night air, he was framed in the doorway, nose pink and eyes puffy. He was only wearing his undershirt, shivering, his skin blotched with red. In his arms was a baby fox, wrapped in his sweater and jacket. Wilbur’s look was one which only a scared, young father who was nowhere near prepared for what was ahead of him could give.

“Wilbur?” Schlatt stared at him blankly, before Wilbur pushed him aside, storming into the warm house and sitting next to the fire, trying to be as gentle as he could with the sleeping baby in his arms. Schlatt stood stunned, watching as his friend tenderly adjusted his arms before throwing his head back against the sofa, sniffling roughly.

“Close the door Schlatt it’s _freezing_ out there,”

“Uh, yeah alright,” Schlatt swallowed and closed the door, “What… Wilbur, what the fuck?”

“Sh sh sh, quiet,” Wilbur shushed him, small chirps came from the bundle in his arms. Schlatt walked over to him, sitting on the sofa next to his cold friend and peering over at the sleeping baby. He was soft and fluffy, tufts of orange and brown fur peeking out of the coverings, his nose twitching as he slept.

“What happened…? Who’s kid is this?” Schlatt asked. Wilbur looked at him, eyes full of worry, and exhaled shakily. Schlatt didn’t need to hear the words _‘Mine’_ for him to understand.

“Wilbur, how on earth did you manage to knock a girl up?”

“Hey, ‘m not _that_ bad looking,”

“I know that, trust me, aside from the fact that I’m a lttle surprised it was a _woman_ you were all cozied up to, what I _meant_ was that you’re not a complete fucking dumbass. I mean, I may say it sometimes for shits ‘n giggles, but… you’re smart, Wilbur. Did you know until now or…?”

“No… I didn’t. I… I didn’t. I didn’t knock a girl up, Schlatt,” Wilbur sighed, “I mean, alright, I fucked a forest guardian. But I didn’t think… I didn’t think a one night stand with the pretty. tall, red haired woman from the woods would end up with me standing next to a fucking river as she turned into a salmon and swam away, leaving me all alone in the snow with a _fox son._ Stop snickering Schlatt, it’s not funny!”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. It’s just. _You?_ And a forest guardian? Also doesn’t that technically mean you inherently also fucked a salmon?”

“ _No!_ ” Wilbur hissed, “Just because she’s a fish now doesn’t mean she was one when we… you know.”

“Alright. Alright,” Schlatt wasn’t entirely sure he believed Wilbur’s story, but he knew Wilbur better than anyone, he was his best friend, and if anyone could tell when Wilbur was telling the truth, it was Schlatt.

“I don’t know what _to do_ , Schlatt,” Wilbur sniffled, “I mean, I’m only twenty. I’m not ready to be a father.”

“Hey, hey. It’ll be alright, we’ll figure this out,” Schlatt said lovingly, taking off the funny, joking, sarcastic persona that he flaunted all the time.

“We?” Wilbur asked, looking over at his friend.

“Yeah, you know I’m always gonna be by your side. Through thick and thin, lover boy,”

“Thank you, Schlatt.” Wilbur moved, trying to adjust his arm to relieve it from the tension of holding up a baby.

“You want me to hold him for a minute?” Schlatt asked, noticing his friend’s discomfort.

“Please, my arms are killing me,” Wilbur slowly moved the baby into Schlatt’s arms. He felt heavy and warm, and Schlatt felt a new wave of love wash over him as he held the small child. He looked at his peaceful, sleeping face, and a part of him lit up inside. It was a warm, tender feeling, like a wave of protective calm washed over him. He reluctantly pulled his dark eyes away from the baby and looked up at Wilbur. He had a feeling that he’d have as much of a place in this baby’s life as Wilbur did.

“What’s his name?” Schlatt asked quietly, more aware of his volume now that the little one was actually in his arms.

“I’m not sure yet… I haven’t given it much thought,” Wilbur stood, pacing the creaky wooden floors of Schlatt’s home.

“Well, he needs a name,” Schlatt said softly, tracing his thumb on the little Fox’s forehead, right between his ears.

“How about… How about Fundy?” “Fundy?” Schlatt asked, eyes moving from Wilbur to the baby.

“Yeah. Fundy,” Wilbur crouched down in front of Schlatt, pulling aside his sweater, to see his son.

“Fundy… I think that suits him,” Schlatt grinned, and Fundy let out a little, chittering yawn, his small eyes squinting open.

“Hello Fundy,” Wilbur cooed sweetly, “Welcome home little one.”

\---

Schlatt smiled fondly at the memory, astonished that after only 7 months, Fundy had grown toddler size, and was now speaking whole words and making sense of the world around him. For a young man, Wilbur was a good father. Even with his problems, Schlatt couldn’t imagine anyone raising Fundy as well as Wilbur was. Everyone always had something to say- but at the end of the day, Wilbur loved his son and would’ve bled and fought for him until the day he died. Schlatt was a year younger than Wilbur, but he felt just as responsible for the kid. He was their little boy, he made that silent promise the first time he held Fundy in his arms. Watching his son snuggle his little head into his best friend's sweater, Schlatt felt at home, his mind and heart granted a moment of peace in all of the hectic happenings around him.

Schlatt heard a thump, and turned his head towards a tall oak tree on the other side of the pond, the branches shaking like an earthquake had hit it. Leaves were falling to the ground, making their way to a stunned Eret, who sat in the dirt, grabbing his leg and making a pained face. Tommy burst into laughter.

“DID YOU FALL JUST NOW ERET? DID YOU FALL?” Tommy cackled, walking over to where Schlatt stood and pointing at their friend. Eret scratched the back of his head and stood up, dusting his knees off.

“NO! I was just getting down from the tree and I had a little… misstep!” Eret yelled back, pushing up his sunglasses.

“Heh, he fell,” Tommy elbowed Schlatt in the arm.

“What’s that fine-lookin tall ass buildin’ over there anyway?” Schlatt asked, nodding towards Eret, who was trying to climb back up the dark oak tree to his place on what looked like the beginnings of a tall, blackstone wall.

“He’s makin’ a wall, Schlatt. Nice big one I reckon, from what I’ve heard, that is,”

“Yeah well _duh_ , I’ve gathered that much dipshit. I mean, what’s the wall _for_?”

“Well Wilbur decided that after the way Dream’s little posse handled the knowledge that we were sellin’ meds, that it’d be better to have some sorta protection. Eret offered to help build some walls n’ stuff, so boom! Walls.”

“Fair enough,” Schlatt crossed his arms, watching as Eret’s tall frame stacked blackstone bricks up into the sky.

“You seen Tubbo around? I wanted to give him this,” Tommy held up a basket, woven with wood and yellow wool.

“He’s off getting more blaze rods,” Wilbur said, letting Fundy down, who then darted out to the pond, most likely going to bother Eret by weaving between his legs while he built.

“Ah,” Tommy walked over to the firepit, setting down the basket on a log and sitting down, facing the fields and the sun, “Seems like everyones always busy these days, can barely sit still,”

“Hey kid, there’s lots of stuff to do around here,” Schlatt said, sitting next to him, “You could help Eret build the wall, or Connor build the base,”

“But I _hate_ building. ‘Sides, Connor’s doin’ the thing outta wood. If I’m gonna build- I’ll use Cobblestone. Cobblestone is what MEN make their homes out of. I want something I can do actively… I wanna get in a fight, burn some shit down, viva la revolution! Do something that’ll make a difference, not a… a home… I’m no _home builder_ , I’m a warrior!”

“As fun as that sounds Tommy, we can’t stoop to the level of violence, how else are we going to make a difference?” Wilbur said, pacing back and forth on the grass.

“With our fists!” Tommy cheered.

“No no no, we have to use our words, Tommy!” Wilbur raised his hands enthusiastically, “Words will always be stronger than weapons,”

Tommy scrunched his face at Wilbur, a clear sign he was dissatisfied with the anti-violence ramblings he’d been going on.

“How we suppose to use our words when they’re using swords and bows and shit? Wilbur what are you gonna do, say ‘Oh noo Sapnap please don’t shoot me! I’m smart!’ and expect him to just _comply_?”

“No Tommy, obviously if it got to that point we’d need to reconsider, but right now there needs to be a change of approach, or else we’re no better than they are,” “I say we’re lots better than they are.” Tommy kicked at dirt with his shoe, digging his toe in the ground until it left an indent.

“Wil, aren’t things _already_ getting to that point?” Schlatt asked, “I mean, I hate to say it, but Tommy’s… right. They’re already threatening us.”

“I know, but they’re empty threats right now. We just have to hold on a little longer. I’ve been writing! Essays on why he should let us keep the caravan,”

“Essays won’t protect us from tyranny, Wilbur,” Tommy said. Wilbur paused, rubbing his hands on his jeans and looking out past the fields where the sun was slowly starting to set.

“Tommy, Schlatt… Things are getting more serious than I planned. I need… I need you to be committed. I need people on my side who are committed to this cause,”

Tommy gazed over at Schlatt, face now serious. The curtain of anticipation before the storm crept in as they realized it was no longer just about a medicine business, it was about fighting against bloodthirsty rulers.

“I’ve been building an embassy, we can use that to meet up and stuff if we need,” Tommy said, “We need a cover for right now so they stop catching onto us,”

“How ‘bout a hot dog van?” Schlatt asked.

“A hot dog van, Schlatt?” Wilbur looked at him incredulously.

“Yeah. Hide away all the medicine in the back. It can be a cover up, it poses itself as an innocent food establishment, but underneath it all is something bigger- in our case, potions and medicine,” Schlatt shrugged his shoulders. He used to be super into secret crime hideouts when he was a kid, him and Connor would stay up all night flipping through books about mafia bosses and underground crime rings. At one point he and Connor tried to make one themselves, a run down little cardboard shack where they sold coffee they pre-made each morning. Barely anyone bought it, but it was still fun for the time being. Schlatt remembered writing down pages and pages of the business and ‘crime’ aspects of it, Connor pitching in ideas as they sat on their shared bedroom floor, until their mother told them it was way past their bedtimes.

“Someone say secret establishment?” Connor came walking up the hill, taking his work gloves off and throwing them to the side so he could stretch out his back.

“Yeah, I was just catching Schlatt up,” Wilbur said, “You know… you may be onto something there. A hot dog van,” Wilbur contemplated it, going back to his habitual pacing.

“Hey Connor, what’s up with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” Schlatt grinned. Connor sat on the grass, head against the sun, his cheeks bright pink from the heat.

“I’ve just been building. Fucking sucks in this heat though,” He wiped the sweat off his forehead, “So, you’re thinking an underground operation hidden by a hot dog business? I can’t guarantee it’ll work, Dream’s already onto you guys quite a bit,”

“It might save us time, though,” Tommy said, “I mean, he’s not an idiot, but he’s not the smartest man in the world either. I say we should do it, Wilbur. I mean, the worst that happens is he arrests us, which he wants to do anyway. Or take our stuff, which he wants to do anyway. I really don’t see how doing that would be much worse than what we’re doing now. It’s just more hidden,” “Exactly,” Schlatt said, “It’s gotta be convincing though. We need someone to actually be selling hot dogs,”

“I can pick some up from one of the markets,” Connor said, taking his hat off and fidgeting with it in his hands.

“No no, Connor, we need you still out there building. We’re outmanned right now, we need yours and Eret’s help building as much as possible right now,” Wilbur insisted.

“I have a giant stuffed hot dog we can put on top of the van to make it more realistic,” Tommy said, “Don’t ask why though ‘cause I’m not telling you,”

“Tommyinnit, I would never dare ask you why,” Connor said, “Out of everything, every action, that has ever popped into my brain, ever, not once, has questioning why you are the way you are been one of them,”

“Thank you big man,” “That wasn’t a compliment.”

Wilbur ignored Tommy, who was sputtering like a broken record player, and stopped his pacing, his face scrunching up, the way it only did when the gears in his mind were turning, a steady flow that connected all of the scrambled thoughts in his head like puzzle pieces. Schlatt waited in anticipation for the _‘ah ha’_ moment, the one he knew so well from being Wilbur’s partner in crime for so many years.

“We’ll try the hot dog van,” Wilbur said, “It might not work for long, but it’ll… it’ll save us time. That’s what we need most of right now, time. I need to figure out what we’re going to do. We can’t stay like this forever,”

“Oh thank god ‘cause I was starting to get hungry,” Tommy said, rubbing his stomach.

“We need to take this seriously, Tommy,” Wilbur scolded, “We’re on the brink of revolution, everything we do now matters, every second spent.”

“I’ll run the van, that’s first and foremost,” Schlatt pitched in, “Connor and I will go stock up on hot dogs, I’ll stop by Niki’s bakery for some buns, and I’ll just cook em’ up in the caravan.”

“Yes, Schlatt, thank you! You and Tommy work the Hot Dog van, and when we don’t have business, Schlatt, we can start drafting the specifics of our new rebellion.”

“Rebellion... “ Schlatt let the word roll over his tongue. He thought about his mother, how sick she was, and how she’d be dead if they abided by the rules Dream had in place. Connor looked up at him from his spot on the ground. His brother, his best friend, knew him better than everyone.

“Hey, if Schlatt’s in, I’m in. I don’t usually see him this serious about stuff... And uh. If it’s a cause he’s willing to support, it’s a cause I’m willing to support. Besides, I’m already building your base, and it’s all the least I can do for the way you have helped us,”

“Thank you, Connor. I’m going to start pushing some of the potions aside near the back and writing out some essays and plans, Tommy, you go grab that giant hot dog and start making signs for the Caravan, we need it to be as convincing as possible,”

“Signs? That’s the most bori-” Wilbur’s dagger stare stopped Tommy in his tracks. He made a cringing face, tensing his shoulders and looking over to Schlatt once Wilbur looked away, his features screaming _Yikes_.

“We should get going, Connor,” Schlatt looked over towards the slowly setting sun. He estimated that it’d give them maybe an hour or two of sunlight before shadows started creeping past the fields. He felt like he was running out of time.


End file.
